Title Pending
by M. Shepard
Summary: In another world, James survived. In another world, he raised his son devoid of magic. In another world, Harry is called upon once again to culture the strength within him and conquer the loathesome future of his world. (AU)
1. Prologue Amnesty

Title Pending

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Prologue: Amnesty 

Saturday October 31, 1981 

James would protect him, like he failed to do for her.  

James lay the crying baby boy down next to its dead mother and the crying ceased.  The boy frantically grabbed at its mother, reaching with short baby arms to clasp an arm, reaching out towards its mother's face.  

The baby, Harry, was calm and content knowing nothing, fearing nothing. 

James' shoulder's shook as he looked down at his completely incomplete family.  They continued to shake with dry sobs echoing through his soul, tears not yet sprung but waiting on the verge.  

The house lay in ruin around him.

He watched the wind toss her hair around her face and a few delicate red locks slither into Harry's mouth.   He looked into her eyes, still vacant, still open.  He wanted to reach out and close them, but could not relish the thought of never seeing them open again.  

A door fell over from its perch against the wall, sliding down to the ground and creating a loud noise startling both James and Harry.  James fell next to his dead wife tears clogging his vision, sobs wracking his soul.  Baby Harry began to cry as well, the door falling and his father crying had startled him and he knew few instincts better than to cry.

James squinted his eyes, haloes of white light flashing in front of him.  He wanted imagine his Lily again, in front of him, whether in spirit or better yet, alive.  He wanted to reach out and touch her, kiss her, hold her.  He wanted to say he loved her, that he needed her.  He wanted to say what he didn't get the chance to say, good bye.

He heard the sound of pages rustling next to his ear and he turned his head away from his wife to see the book she coveted above all other books.

Cannery Row 

He would never quite understand why she loved it so.  The old paperback book was worn; edges ripped and frayed, the spine was in bad condition as well, but Lily would never tire of reading it.  John Steinbeck, she claimed, was a genius.  He could just not see it, the book had no plot, it revolved stupidly, in his opinion, around stupid people.

But Lily had fallen in love with the characters, Mr. Chong the shopkeeper, Doc the proprietor of Western Biological Laboratory, and Mack and the boys, a rambunctious few that drove the inhabitants of Cannery Row wild with aberration.  

Lily often confided in James (as if telling him often enough would make it come true) that she had dreamt of going to Monterey, California since she had read the book as a teenager.  She dreamt of walking down Cannery Row, imagine the fictitious characters in their splendor, and dreamt of buying a pack of spearmint in Mr. Chong's shop.  

And yet, at age twenty-two she was dead, her life not even half lead and her dreams helplessly shattered.  Her requests and dreams never got too extravagant, she kept as simple as she was raised, never needing expensive clothing or a big house(all of which James could easily have provided).  She instead reveled in the small things, her husband and for the last year and a half, her wonderful baby boy.  

James felt the proverbial last straw break inside himself as he stood up, stuffing the book savagely into the back pocket of his faded jeans.  He lifted his wife into his arms before re-arranging his grasp so that he may hold her frame up with a single arm.  The other arm reached out to grab Harry (who had begun to crawl away) around the middle, seating him on his lap.

He held his wand in his right hand and concentrated very hard, imagining the ocean spray, the salty smell, the rolling hills, sandy beaches and wonderfully green cypress trees that had been described to him by his wife many times.  It took nearly every ounce of concentration and energy he possessed to apparate not only himself, but his dead wife and living child nearly half way across the world.  

He landed with a loud thud in a crowded wood.  Strewn leaves softened the blow but the back of his head connected with hard ground and his vision swam several times in and out.  He felt (as if far away) his son stand and start to waddle away from him into the line of trees.  

He grumbled, feeling extremely weak, and crumpled back into the leaves after several failed attempts at getting up.  He cried out in frustration but even that was half put as only soft sputtering and failed tears came out.  He was too weak to save his wife, to weak to apparate so far and now he would be too weak to save his son. 

He blacked out.  

***

James awoke to the gentle crying of a baby.  Harry had made his way back to his mother and was anxiously trying to peal away her shirt to suckle at her breast and feed.  It broke James' heart to see this sight, but then in the pit of his heart, he felt rectified.  It was the baby's just punishment, to die in the hills of Monterey alongside his mother.  It was just punishment for James to walk away from the woman he loved, his wife and their child because that child had killed its own mother.  

It was just punishment.

And then the burdens of remorse swept through him and he stood up and grabbed the baby boy, startling it.  He held on to the boy as he sobbed into the mop of pristine black hair he so possessed.  He wept into the light green t-shirt the baby held on its fragile little shoulders as James' own shoulders wracked up and down.  He fell again, to his knees.

He would make a life for them two.  He would continue on raising the child like he knew Lily would want him to.  He would hold nothing back to make this child, this boy, their child, the best there was.

And yet.

And yet…he couldn't bring him back to the wizard world from which James himself grew up.  The world he hoped to rear his family from on the ancestral lawns of the Potter family estate.  

There would be followers, massing in courts to bring their leader back.  They would come up with one solid solution for their trials, one answer to answer the book of questions they held.  

They would kill the boy.

They would kill his son and Lily's son.  The son that she loved and died for.  The son that killed its mother without remorse but with complete innocence.  

He would not bring his son into the harrows of a world bent on killing him.  He would shield him from all evils, magic included.

James let go of his child allowing it to sit back on it's bottom in the forest floor.  James stood up again, reached into his robe pocket for a wand and set to work.

He would create a world for his son and himself. 

He would live in this muggle world; torture himself in this infernally primitive world; survive this travesty for his son and for his lost love.

James Potter ceased to be James Potter.


	2. Chapter One Moira

**Title Pending** Chapter One - Moira Sunday August 4, 1996 

It wasn't that he hated the man; it was more that he hated that he could not hate him.  For who could consciously hate their father when they gave so much up, for the sake of their children.  

"Harry, get in the car right now," his father rang out, sounding more like a master scolding his dog, than a father demanding of his son.  Harry did not like that one bit.

"If you'd ask nicely, maybe," he paused, " I will."

James took one incredulous look at his son, turned to the car and shouted over his shoulder, "I suppose you don't want your license after all.  Shame, it was a really nice picture."

Perhaps it _was_ possible to hate the man.

He clambered into the car—it wasn't really a car, but a jeep—one that he despised with utter loathing that could only be associated with tests or chores; annoyance and irritation resonated from the "car" when he was in it, and he liked to make it known.

"Took you long enough, bitch," Jake, his brother said.  He was only twelve and had the mouth of a sailor.  

"Jake…" their mother warned.  She did not like that the men she dwelled with had progressively fouler mouths, but was at a loss at how to deal with it.  Eventually she had given up to muttering half warnings and threats that they, the men, had grown to ignore.

"Shut up," Harry said to Jake, not wanting to put up a fight.  His father was peeved off enough, no use in letting him get madder.  It seemed, to Harry only of course, that his father was much harder on himself, than he was on either Jake or Andrew.  Why he was so easy on Andrew he could understand, but Jake seemed to slither out of every crevice he could, mocking Harry for the things he did under their father's nose.

James turned on the engine and waited as it warmed up.  The frigid mountain air did no good for the old engine and the family, was forced to wait several anxious and tantalizing seconds before James figured it was safe enough to pull it into drive and out of the campsite.  

"Won't someone steal our stuff dad?" Jake piped up voicing Harry's exact worries.

"No." James grunted in response.

"Oh…why not?"

"Because"

"Because what?"

"Just because!" Harry growled, frustrated.

"Don't talk to your brother like that," James reprimanded.

"Yes sir…" Harry replied saucily.  He loved testing the borders, loved stepping into the water seeing how far he could go before he drowned.  He especially loved it when he was angry with his father.  It did no good to get back on the good side, he doubted he was ever there.  

"Don't answer me like that." 

"Like what?" Harry said, trying valiantly to hide the grin leveling on his face.

"Like that!  Don't play smart ass with me, you know what you're doing and you're going to stop right now."

"I don't know what you're saying," Harry said, staring out the window, completely nonchalant, sans the grin on his face.

James pulled the jeep to the side of the road angrily.  He turned around in his seat pointed an angry finger at Harry and yelled, "You don't talk to me like that!  The next time I hear you talking to me like that…"

The grin was gone now, but the threat loomed.  Harry knew his father would not hit him, but he somehow wished, deep inside, that perhaps he would someday.  Not for the sake of being hit, but rather for the sake that he wanted his father to feel bad about himself for hitting his son; taking his anger out in violence.

James turned back around in his seat, threw the engine into drive and they carried on back on the twisting road.

"Open a window, it's stuffy in here," Jake said after minutes of silence.

"It's cold," Harry said.

"Mom," Jake whined, " Tell Harry to open the window."

"Harry, open the window," Zoe answered.

"No," Harry persisted.

"James, tell Harry to open the window," Zoe said.

"Harry open the window," James grunted. 

"I'll open the window," Andrew mumbled out.  The quietest of the Brumnder bunch, Andrew sat at the window opposite Harry.  If there was one member of the family that Harry could appreciate, it was Andrew.

"No it's ok Andrew, I'll open the window for this fuckwit."

"I'm not a fuckwit, you're a fuckwit!" Jake said.

"You're both fuckwits, now shut up so I don't kill us all." James said.

Harry opened the window, the cool air hitting his face.  He took a deep breath in and found it burned his nostrils.   It was clean and fresh and he resented the smell.  Pines and other evergreens fermented the area making the air cleaner than he ever really liked.  Besides, he preferred ocean breezes, not mountain freshness.  He loved that salty feeling upon his face, and the endless seagulls, as stupid as they were.  

"Don't you love that smell?" Jakes asked.

"No."

"No?  You're strange." 

"Yes," Harry answered.  "Andrew is going to get too cold."

"I'm fine Harry, don't worry," Andrew said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry," Andrew said, pleased.  

The ride was quiet then.  The mountains of forests curved down to the valley of grass.  He really was enjoying the trip to the Yosemite National Park, albeit, with his dad and brother around, it was less enjoyable.

They arrived at the Ahwahnee restaurant just after nine thirty.  It was a thirty minutes of agony that much resembled the time ever since they had left their home in the humble city of Monterey, California.   

"I bet I can eat more than you can," Jake chided as he slammed the door shut.  The boy would compete for everything, and anything and never believed himself a loser, no matter the outcome of the game; he would always find a way to "win".  This time though, Harry knew not to play along.  At his twelve years of age, Jake was an inch taller than Harry, even though Harry himself was sixteen.  The reason, Jake could eat like a horse and would only grow up.  Up and up and up, and Harry hated it.  It was as if his body disliked growing out, and only grew up.  Their mother attributed it to the fact that her brother was also very tall, and nearly all the men on her mother's side of the family were very tall, but Harry had yet to see it in himself.  When he asked about this, his parents conveniently, didn't have a clue.  

"I don't feel like gorging myself today," Harry said.  He was by no means fat, but he did feel a couple extra pounds starting to stock up on his figure and he preferred to watch his diet for the time being.  

"Suit yourself," Jake yelped, running into the building.

"Idiot," Harry mumbled under his breath.

They were ushered into the elegant dining room, the wooden ceilings that stretched up high, held up with several stone pillars.  They were met by a woman in her early twenties.  She had a startling figure and Harry couldn't help but gawk at her shimmering blonde hair and her clear smooth skin.  The uniform she had on didn't help matters one bit as Harry couldn't help but like all the features the tight shirt and short skirt showed off.   

They were seated in a booth, James and Zoe seated on one side, Harry, Jake and Andrew seated on the other, Andrew creating the buffer between his two older brothers.  

"Welcome to the Ahwahnee, today we are featuring our special Sunday brunch where you can choose between the nine special buffet stations.  Feel free to get up, select a plate and choose between the cold stations with yogurt, fruit, cheeses and meats.  The salad station with several varieties of salads including pasta, fruit and tossed salads.  The seafood station, which has prawns, oysters on the half shell, smoked salmon and several other choices.  The hot entree station, which has quiche, pork, ham, and any type of potato.  Our custom egg station has just about any type of egg cooked the way you like it. The carved—"

"Can we just go get our food?" Jake grumbled interrupting the stewardess' mantra.  The way she said it sounded like she either getting tired of constantly repeating it, or was half asleep.

"Yes sir, sorry, sir.  You can make as many trips as you'd like, we only ask that you grab a clean plate each time."  She took a break here, looked the family over and then said, "If you need anything, please be sure to ask me."  She plastered on a fake smile and left the table.

"Finally," Jake said, pushing Andrew over to get out of the booth.  "Move over, I'm gonna go get some food!"

Harry stood up, helping Andrew up as well as their overzealous brother leapt from his seat and ran towards the different stations.

"Dumbass…" Harry muttered under his breath.  "Come on Andrew, let's go get something to eat."  Harry went with his brother to the kid's station first, holding his brother's plate and gathering the food that he pointed to, and his brother nodded at. When he was finished, he went back to the table set his brother's plate down and looked him in the eye.  

"Eat up ok?" He took a second and looked behind him, glancing at the different families and couples sitting down and then said to Andrew, "you sure you're gonna be ok her by yourself?  I'm sure it's only gonna be for a little while, but if you need me, just yell and I'll be here in a flash.  Okay?"

"Yeah Harry, go get your food, don't worry about me, I'll be fine," Andrew said with a smile.

"Alright, anything happens, give me a yell."

He loved his brother, Harry did.  He could not help himself and yet he could not decide if whether he loved his brother because he felt actual love of a brother, or pity at the fact that his brother had acute lymphoblastic leukemia.  Projected death for Andrew had come and gone and the doctors were astonished at the resilience of the boy.  However astonished they were though, they were still not convinced that Andrews' last weeks weren't upon him and the family kept vigil hoping that what the doctors said, wasn't true.  Countless chemotherapy sessions with no resulting remission in sight, hadn't helped the poor boys spirit though, anymore than it helped the family's and finally James decided it was time to bring the family on a vacation from their home in Monterey, California to the wonderful valley of Yosemite National Park.

"Let the boy see the world," James had said, and for one of the few times in his life, Harry truly admired his father.

Hunger bit him out of his thoughts as his stomach growled greedily at the site of all the food, and he grinned and succumbed to its heeds as he ordered and omelet with ham and cheese.  Then he went and grabbed himself some bagels, asking for extra cream cheese.  A cup of Coffee was his last order at the refreshments station, before he begged off back to the table finding his family already sitting down, engrossed in the food they had on their plates.  Jake had, as it looked to Harry, every single parcel of food possible to get on his plate.

"You call that a plate?" Jake admonished.  

"Yes." Harry said.

"You better get more food, I'm paying good money for this," James scowled, having sighted Harry's plate and listened to the small squabble between his boys.  

"I'd be happy with just a sandwich, that's what camping's about after all," Harry said.   

"Brunch," Jake piped up.

"What?" Harry answered, angrily.

"This is a brunch, not a breakfast.  And you don't have to be here if you don't want to, besides we don't want you here, isn't that right dad?" Jake said.

James, who had been looking at his food the whole time simply muttered, "Be quiet and eat," without looking up from his food.  And the boys listened.

***

Harry sniffed for the fifth time in under a minute, clawed at his right eye and sat back in the ugly shit brown seat, sighing.  

"Why do you keep sniffing?  It's getting really annoying," Jake begrudged.  

"My allergies are acting up," Harry said.  His nose was running, his eyes were itching, painfully, and he was having difficulty breathing, the stuffy air inside the car was not helping.  

"Didn't I tell you to take your medicine earlier Harry?" Zoe asked, with the worry of a mother in her voice.

"Yeah," Harry said, remembering, "I guess I just forgot."

"Well, if you'd woken up when I told you to, instead of falling back to sleep like you did, we wouldn't be having this problem would we?" James droned, from the wheel.  He was searching for a place to park in the small parking lot and the lot of cars from the summer cars was not providing any help.  As such, he continued circling endlessly, it seemed, to get a parking spot.

"Here Harry," Zoe said, handing him back a bottle of children's antihistamine.  "Don't drink too much, it will knock you out, but since you didn't take your medicine earlier, it will have to do."

Harry sized up the bottle in his hand; the liquid was bright, cherry red and looked positively nasty.  He knew it would not go down well and as he noticed, looking around the car, there were no water bottles so he would have to grin and bear that taste.  He felt miserable, anything that would help him he would gladly take.  He was however immensely glad that he had a stuffy nose as he put the bottle up to his mouth for when he did in fact pour the medicine in his mouth; he found he did not taste it as much.  A hand tipped the bottle, pouring more medicine in his mouth than he would have liked, and out of shock, he swallowed it all.  

His eyes bulged out, he closed the bottle quickly, wiped the side of his mouth and punched Jake right on the shoulder, ending the joyful laughing he was producing.  

"Ow!" he exclaimed, his other arm quickly going to run the sore one.  "What'd you have to go and do that for?  I only pushed the bottle a little!  It's gonna make you better!"

"You're an idiot!"  He searched the bottle and pointed at the word he was looking for, "You see what this?  Drowsy!  Makes people sleepy."

"Drowsy is not the same thing as sleepy," Jake chanted, his swore arm forgotten.

"You dumbfuck, why don't you take some," Harry said, opening the bottle and grabbing his brother's shoulder.  Jake scooted away smashing Andrew into the door making him scream in pain.

"That's enough!  Stop it!" James yelled.  Stopping the car quickly, the mini-van behind them honked loudly.  "You two, out of the car," He said, pointing at Harry and Jake.  

"But he—" Jake began.

"I don't care who started it, both of you out of the car right now," James pressed.

Harry grunted as he opened the door and stepped out, contemplating slamming the door in Jake's face.

"Bastard," Harry said, watching the car pull away, and scratching at his right eye.

"I thought that stuff was supposed to help you."

Harry turned to look his brother in the eye. "It doesn't work that fast you stupid moron."

"I'm not stupid, you're stupid!" Jake whined.

"Clever," he snorted.

"Of course it was!" Jake said.

" Let's go."  Harry sighed, he hoped Andrew was okay; he hated to hear him scream.

They met up with the rest of their family on the path.  James looked angry, and Zoe was tending over Andrew who was massaging his left arm, the one pushed into the door.

"What do you two have to say for yourselves," James asked, his arms now crossed and his foot tapping on the ground merely, Harry deemed, for show.

"I'm sorry," Jake said, having the decency to bow his head.  

James set his sights on Harry and he just shrugged, shook his head, and said, "Sorry," then rolled his eyes.  

"Dad?  Why are we here?" Andrew asked, a hat on his head, although they were surrounded by trees and it was partly cloudy.  

"Well, your mother and I thought it would be best to start off the day visiting one of the four great waterfalls they have here, the uh…" he struggled to come up with the name.

"Bridelvail falls," Harry yawned.  He knew the map of the park by heart.

"Right, right, that's the one," James said, continuing walking and looking up.

"I don't see or hear it yet," Jake grumbled.  "Aren't waterfalls supposed to be big and loud?"

"It's the summer, it's dried up," Harry sighed.  The logic his brother possessed would borderline nothing.  He was beginning to really feel the affects of the drug as he yawned again this time smacking his lips together.

When they finally caught view of the falls it was slightly disappointing to see.  Normally big and majestic, the falls were a miniscule spray over the ridge that seemed to dissolve into the air.  There were a tremendous amount of rocks at the bottom and many people were scampering along, trying to climb as high as they could.  Naturally Jake's eyes lit up and he turned to his brother.

"I'll race you to the top," Jake said, mischief in his eyes and competitive spirit shooting out.

Harry, by this time was truly feeling very tired.  The rocks looked as inviting as a nice warm bed and all he wanted to do was curl up and fall asleep.

"No," he said simply.

"What?  Why not? You chicken?" Jake taunted.

"No, just tired."

"Aww, you're just faking it.  You're not really tired, you're just afraid you're gonna lose."

"Dammit Jake, I said no."

"Whatever," Jake said and set off to go climb the rocks.

"Not so fast young man," Zoe called out halting Jake's retreat.  

"What is it now?" Jake sighed.

"You're not to climb those rocks without your brother supervising you.  I don't want you falling and hurting yourself," Zoe said, laying down the rules.  She gathered the stern look she had in the bag of discipline she used as a teacher, but rarely used on her own children.

"But he said he didn't want to go!" Jake said, knowing that he might not be able to climb after all.

"Tough shit isn't it?" Harry said feeling a dizziness wash over him nearly knocking off his feet.

Jake took one look at his brother, summed up the injustice of it all in his head and then did what he did best.

"Dad!  Make Harry go please?  I really wanna climb the rocks and it's not fair," Jake whined, professionally.  

Jake was king at whining, Harry had to hand it to him.  It really was tough, living with their youngest brother.  Andrew, although not wanting to, did generate a lot of attention and Jake and Harry did experience quite a lot of fall out because of it.  Harry accepted this fact and did not complain.  Jake, however, did not and probably never would accept the fact that his brother took his parents attention off of him.  His answer to it all was, obviously, whining and trying to win his way in every little thing.

And James made him.  He made him climb the rocks with Jake even though he could barely see in front of him.  Zoe warned them not to go too far up and that if anything happened to yell as loudly as they could.  And so, Harry began to climb the rocks, so many, in so many different shapes and sizes it was disorienting.  It was far from a straight slope up.  Barely inclining, it was more of a big pile of rocks splattered over each other making different paths for people to climb.  And indeed, there were many people climbing the rocks as Jake and Harry were.

It seemed as if, when they reached the top of the first tier of rocks, that the physical exertion, did at the very least help wake Harry up; if only because adrenaline was pumping madly through him for fear of falling and breaking, literally, his body.  

Jake, not so far ahead of him now, jumped from one rock to the other with the ease of a mountain goat.  Harry, stumbled in the beginning but was starting to get a feel for them; coming from veritably crawling in the beginning to standing, hunched over, arms spread out the sides just in case he should fall.  

"You're going too fast," Harry called out as Jake started to pull away quickly.  Begrudgingly his brother listened as Harry caught up to him.

"You're so slow, I bet if we had raced I could have climbed up and back before you even reached half way," Jake said scanning different possible routes to go.  

"It's the stupid medicine." Harry said back, stretching his arms out, trying to loosen up his back.  

"Whatever," Jake replied.  He had searched and scanned and was ready to deliver his verdict.  "If we're gonna make it to the top over there," he said, pointing to the very top of the pile of rocks.  "We're going to have to climb up in between those two rocks over there.  It's gonna be hard, you think your pussy ass can make it?"

It did look daunting indeed. Along their left, there were paths leading to the base of the waterfall where the water trickled down the side of the rock into a pool.  Several people were playing and getting wet in it, but where Jake was deciding to take them was much higher up.  A narrow crevice seemed to separate two humongous rocks and climbing in between and up the crevice seemed the only way to reach high ground.  The top of the crevice looked high enough that Harry could probably just barely reach it with his hands up.  He could never do a pull up in school and from the looks of it, a pull up would be exactly what he would be doing.  

"Just get on with it," Harry spat, he had enough of his brother pushing him around for the day, and the Brumnder blood that swam through him would not let him back down as much as it would let his brother back down.  

Jake made his way carefully toward the crevice, reached with his hands—which had a longer reach than did Harry's—and hoisted himself up using his feet along the walls.  He did indeed make it look remarkably easy, but when Harry himself tried it, he failed miserably, falling on his ass with a dull thud against the rock below.  

Jake, above burst into laughter putting out strings of "dumbass" and "feel _on_ his ass" in successions broken only by partakes of laughter.

"Would you just shut up and help me?" Harry said, silently angry at his inability to climb.

Jake had naturally always taken to climbing, anything from trees to hills of dirt used for construction.  Seaside cliffs back home were climbed, and unforgiving Cyprus trees were climbed seemingly as easy as walking on the ground.  For Harry it had never been so easy.  He was never really afraid of heights.  He loved them in fact, when they provided a great view of the ocean at sunset.  No, instead he just never climbed because he honestly knew he could not.  Small and lanky Harry had never developed upper body strength the likes of which his brother, four years his minor flourished with.  

"Fine, fine" Jake answered, reaching a hand down between the crevice still trying to hold in his laughter, failing miserably Harry would note.  He reached his left hand out to his brother's left creating a strange clasp of fingers.  "It won't work that way, you have to grab my hand with your right."

"I can't, my left arm has no strength.  Go to the other side." Harry said.

"Ugh, fine," Jake grumbled.  His hands were equally as powerful and equally as coordinated, another talent his brother possessed that Harry did not and another thing he was envious of.  

Jake jumped across the crevice to the other side and used his right hand to clasp Harry's left so that Harry could grab the opposite tip with his right hand.  Together they pulled and Harry kicked helplessly with his feet trying to hoist one or the other up over the edge.  He succeeded with both legs, one on either side of the crevice and then his left hand slipped from Jake's grasp quickly finding its way to the edge of the wall.  Now he was placed precariously between the crevice holding on for his life and Jake having fallen over, laughing on his side.  

"It's not funny!" Harry exclaimed.  He was scarred to death, all sleepiness having left him in a quick burst of adrenaline.  He did not feel apt to throw himself to either side so that he might scramble over.  "Help me!"

"Alright! Alright, just calm down will yah?" Jake said, holding his sides.  His face was red and Harry hated him deeply at that moment in time.  Jake quickly jumped down the hole and under Harry, pushing onto his back.

"On the count of three I'm going to push you to your right, I want you to throw all your weight into going right, okay?"

"Alright," Harry said, briefly contemplating all the things that could go wrong, but choosing not to dwell.

"All right, One, Two, Three," and he heaved Harry getting him fully over the edge.  Harry rolled over the side and lay face down trying to calm his erratic breathing and attempting to regain the feeling in his arms.  

"There, there that wasn't so bad now was it?" Jake taunted, already up again.  "Now let's get going."

"What?  We have to go back down!" Harry tried to reason.  He knew his brother would continue and as such, so would he, but it was still worth the try.

"Hmm…" Jake mock contemplated.  "No, let's go, you fuckin' slow piece of shit."

Harry groaned, climbed up to his feet and continued to follow his brother up the rocks.  He could see the top now, and only a few teenagers were ahead of them now instead of flocks of families.

Glancing at the terrain ahead of him, he discovered surprisingly that it was a lot easier that the terrain before.  It was still compromised of several rocks seemingly scattered everywhere, but now the slope was more gradual creating what looked to Harry like a stairway.

So comfortable in his stepping, Harry started to pay more attention to his surroundings, the face of the waterfall, the valley behind, the mountains on the other side.  And as such did not see Jake slip on the rock and twist his ankle, until he tripped over him and nearly hit his head.

"Aww, shit what happened?" Harry said, massaging his hands which took the blow for the fall.  His knee was in pain too, but when he saw his brother's bright red face and the hands cradling his left ankle, he knew his own pain was slight in comparison.

"Harry I can feel where the bone cracked.  Harry, it hurts so much," Jake whimpered.  He honestly looked like an inferno was boiling within him; pain suffocating him trying to get out but him desperately trying to hold onto his dignity and not cry.

Harry's mind drew a blank.  He felt panicked, choked up and lost.  It really had happened so quickly, one second he was climbing…He knew one thing, he needed to get his brother and himself down the rocks and he berated himself for not having the slightest clue how.

"Jake, I need you to…can you walk on it?" Harry choked out.

"Can I walk on it?  No I can't walk on it!  It's cracked in half," Jake nearly shouted.  "Look, feel it."

And indeed it was cracked not so nearly in half as Jake had said, but the bone was nearly jutting out of his skin.  It seemed strangely surreal to him, like a test.  He looked around expecting to see the puppet master pulling the strings but he saw none.  

"Harry, please help me.  It hurts so bad," Jake said, tears now crawling down his face, the pain too much for him now.  Harry wanted nothing more at that moment than to free his brother of the pain.  No matter how much he vowed to hate him, or how much at times he annoyed himm, he truly never wanted his brother to experience pain.  He reached again for the fracture in the bone feeling it jut out against the skin.  

And then suddenly, where he was lost he knew.  He didn't know how he knew, but it seemed to crawl up from inside him itching it's way along to his fingers and pouring into his brother's skin.  It was like a fire racing along through his veins that felt dreamlike in every sense of the word.  A sickening lurch of bones melding together was heard and Harry sat back quickly afraid of what he had done.  Just as soon as the knowledge had hit him, it had receded.

Harry looked back up to his brother, wide eyes adorned them both and neither could believe what had just happened.

"There's…no more pain," Jake slowly said.

"Is it still broken?" Harry asked, nearly afraid of the answer.

Jake felt his ankle, felt the bones back in place.  He gave it a firm squeeze to make sure he wasn't dreaming and shook his head.

"Well…what just happened?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, you did it, you tell me," Jake said.

"I…I have no idea what just happened."

"What do you mean you don't know what happened?" Jake jumped up.  "My ankle is fine and just a second ago it was broken in half!  What the hell just went on here?  Ankle's don't just do that you know."  He stomped his foot a couple times, showing the capacity of the "miraculous healing."

"I don't know!  I don't know!  I don't know!" Harry nearly wanted to scream.  "How am I suppose to know any of this?"

Jake sighed.  "Sorry, I just…that was rather scary don't you think?"

"Yeah," Harry looked down at the ground.  "Do we tell mom and dad?"

"Nah, let's not tell them.  It'll be our little secret.  Besides, they might not trust you for letting me fall.  If that happens, I'll never be able to do anything."

Harry snorted, "Always thinking about yourself aren't you?"

"Well, what else?  Now, are we going to keep climbing or are we going to head down?" Jake said, peering up.

"I say we go down."

Jake nodded and helped his brother down the crevice again.

***

"I was a bitch today wasn't I?" Jake said sitting in the chair next to him by the fire.  Harry looked up from the flame to acknowledge the sincerity in his brother's eyes.  "Wasn't I?"

"Sort of.  But when aren't you?" Harry simply stated.  

"Lot's of times, just…not today," Jake sighed, picking up a stick and sticking it in the fire.

"Sure Jake, whatever you say," Harry stretched his arms up in the air and then brought them back shivering and pulling his arms into his sweater.  "Damn is it ever cold up here."

"Yeah," Jake nodded.  "And it's August, who woulda' thunk it eh?"

Harry shook his head, "I love the grammar."

"Thanks, I do my best to please."

"Yeah…Mom and Dad asleep?" Harry asked looking at his brother.

"Yeah, Andrew too…why?  Got something planned?"

A smirk graced Harry's face.  "Maybe, what's it to you?"

"What?  You can't just leave me hanging like that.  You have to take me.  Anywhere, where are we going?" Jake said, flailing his arms about.

"Yeah?  You wanna go?  Really?  Go ahead," Harry's smirk disappeared.  "I'm not going anywhere."

Jake sat back in his seat.  "That was stupid and mean."

"You're the one who thought I was going to do something," Harry said, looking back into the fire.

The fire crackled noisily in its home of rocks.  The crickets chirped in the woods and the sound of trees moving back and forth in the slight wind put an aura of calm deceptiveness around the two brothers.

"Where leaving for home tomorrow aren't we?  It feels like we've been here forever," Jake said, exasperation in his voice.

"Only four days, that's not too long.  I'm going to miss the redwoods," Harry said.

"I know what you mean, it's a shame there are so few left they really are great.  What about what happened today though.  What do you think that was?  It wasn't anything normal, that's for sure," Jake said, idly twiddling his thumbs.

"I wish I could say I knew."

"It would be so nice to just blame it on a dream, then maybe I wouldn't think I was going crazy anymore." 

"Yeah, a dream…" Harry said.

"I wanna go home."

"You said that already."

"Yeah, but it needs to be said again, I really want to go home," Jakes repeated.

"Why do you want to go home so much?" Harry asked, intrigued for his brother's reasons.

Jake blushed and looked down at his hands.  "Well, there's this girl…"

Harry sat up in his seat now for it was genuinely news to him that his brother liked girls.  It was not more than a year ago his brother still vowed all girls had cooties.

"Oh?  A girl?" 

"She's…she's…really nice.  I guess I like her, I just don't know.  It's all new to me, this…girls and stuff.  I don't really know what to do."

"Well, you can start with a name," Harry said.

"Chelsea Hunter, she's really…beautiful…" Jake said, dreamy eyed.

"Uh-oh, someone's fallen and he can't get up," Harry laughed.

"What?  How can you tell?" Jake's eyes snapping out of their trance.

"Well, I really can't, but referring to a girl as beautiful rather than hot is one clue, not to  mention your reaction.  Dear brother, I must warn you now though, women are atrocious.  They can beat you senseless without lifting a finger, I say to thee, tread carefully."

"What?" 

"Just be cautious, don't jump into things," Harry said, knowing his stuff.

"You mean like what happened with you and Sarah?" Jake asked.

"Something like that.  But enough about me, tell me about Chelsea.  What makes _her_ so special?"

Jake smiled.  "Well, it's a lot of things and no things all at once, it's really strange.  Just the way her smile is, it's so…I don't know…and I feel like such a dumbass saying all this."

"No, go on, I'm not going to judge you.  Besides, maybe I can help, you never know."

"Well, it's just…I don't know how to describe her, she's just wonderful all in one.  I find myself doing things I don't normally do, or even, don't want to do, just so maybe she can…I dunno…like me I guess.  Or maybe I just want her to notice me at least.  Do ever have that feeling?  Where you want them to notice you and you'd do anything to do it but they never seem to even bat an eye?"

"You see, this is the evils of women, you just never know what they're thinking."

"Maybe, but I'm scared.  What if she doesn't like me?  I don't think I could take that, maybe I should just give up while I'm ahead."

"You won't know till you try.  Be proud Brumnder, don't ever back down."  

"You know, I've never heard dad say things like that.  You'd think he wasn't proud to be a Brumnder or something.  He always makes this funny face when he says his name, you ever notice it?" Jake asked.

"Yeah, I do actually, it's like he's mad at the name.  Funny." Harry said.  He was beginning to get terribly cold and his feet were frozen solid, his toes numb.  

"Let's go to sleep," Harry said, standing up.  He rubbed his arms together trying to generate some heat, but it was in vain.

Jake only nodded and headed for the tent.  They climbed into their sleeping bags and dosed off shortly there after dreaming dreams of home and girls.  
  



End file.
